Audrey has nothing on this stuff...
In the waning days of Summer as temperatures have been dropping back down into the realm of reasonable I've been spending a bit more time outside working on cleaning up the landscaping here.
Those of you out there who are obsessed with musical theatre or have an unnatural affinity for the many works of Rick Moranis may understand the reference above to Audrey (the oversized man-eating venus-fly-trap from Little Shop of Horrors). Having spent the last several weekends working on cleaning up some of the overgrowth in the various beds throughout the yard I have come to hate english ivy with a burning passion. Everywhere I turn there is more ivy. It is climbing up things, across things, through things and generally choking out and obliterating everything in its path. It is this indescriminant unstoppable devouring growth that brings to mind the 6 ft tall burping flytrap keening "feed me".
After several days of fighting my way through the dense and humid jungles of my back yard with a machete and my trusty native guide I discovered that I had a small detached garage in my backyard. Had I not had the native guide I'm sure I would still be lost in the teeming jungle of ivy as it slowly shot tendrils forth around my legs and engulfed me in a blanket of green. (eventually to form a rather startling topiary no doubt)
When I bought the house I knew there was a sort of outbuilding but with the amount of ivy covering nearly every surface of the exterior of the garage it looked far more like the gaping maw of some mutated ivy creature than any sort of place that I would want to store gardening equipment or a car. I had visions of kneeling before the garage opening and raising my hands above my head with a rake held horizontally as an offering to the mighty ivy monster as the sound of distant rhythmic tribal drums and chanting drifted across the alleyway. Only after the correct incantations had been recited and the proper sacrifices to the beast had been made would the villagers be safe from the mighty ivy beast.
The villagers were in luck. The correspondence course in ivy whispering that I had taken in college was about to pay off in a big way. Several hours of pruning chopping, cutting, mowing, piling, and hauling later and the mighty foe had been defeated and tamed.